


Penelope's Shroud

by WildwoodQueen



Series: Tapestry of the Fates [3]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, The Odyssey - Homer
Genre: Ambiguity, Complicated Relationships, Dreamlike, F/M, Reality Bending, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26047681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildwoodQueen/pseuds/WildwoodQueen
Summary: "Poseidon’s gaze is a crashing wave, his frown a fierce storm. His wrath is a monster heaving itself out of the deep — dark and relentless, hungry."Odysseus is lost at sea. And through weaving and unweaving her shroud, Penelope tells their story, and brings her husband home.
Relationships: Odysseus/Penelope
Series: Tapestry of the Fates [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677091
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18





	Penelope's Shroud

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Саван Пенелопы](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29047107) by [essilt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/essilt/pseuds/essilt), [WTF History Porn 2021 (fandom_History_P_2020)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_History_P_2020/pseuds/WTF%20History%20Porn%202021)



> Originally, I intended this as a simple 50 sentences kind of thing, but instead, it became a weird reality-warping prose poem. So it goes.

1\. Penelope is weaving a shroud. She is counting the stitches. Her tears fall without a sound.  


2\. Look at these threads: they twist and turn and battle each other. It is all much too complex for the eye to take in all at once. Sometimes it resembles a portrait, sometimes a map.  


3\. Look at these threads: here is Helen of Sparta running off with Paris of Troy. See how all of Greece lets out a collective groan of exasperation.  


4\. Here is wily Odysseus. He praises Achilles and he praises Agamemnon. The words are drops of rain into an endless well of rage and despair.  


5\. Here is the war. The war has ended. But the Fates are always hard at work.  


6\. The Fates are weaving a shroud.  


7\. Poseidon’s gaze is a crashing wave, his frown a fierce storm. His wrath is a monster heaving itself out of the deep — dark and relentless, hungry.  


8\. Here is wily Odysseus, lost at sea.  


9\. “Whose shroud is this?” a suitor asks. “My father-in-law’s,” answers Penelope. The suitor nods.  


10\. “Whose shroud is this?” a suitor asks. “Yours,” answers Penelope. The suitor scuttles away.  


11\. The Lotus-Eaters hold out their fruit. Odysseus thinks of the blood and the flames and the screams. He is about to take a bite.  


12\. “This did not happen”, says Penelope as she undoes the stitch.  


13\. Odysseus drags his men, howling, back to the ship. “Think of home,” he tells them.  


14\. Odysseus says to the Cyclops, “I am Nobody”, and, in a way, he means it.  


15\. But he cannot resist. He yells out his name as the ship departs. He is Odysseus. He has conquered the Cyclops like he conquered Troy.  


16\. The Cyclops’s curse follows him like a shadow.  


17\. “Whose shroud is this?” Nobody asks. “Yours,” answers Penelope. She reaches out in the dark.  


18\. Odysseus drowns. The sirens lure him to a watery grave. The Laestrygonians laugh as they devour him. Odysseus drowns. He gasps her name as he drowns.  


19\. “This did not happen”, says Penelope as she undoes the stitch.  


20\. Odysseus reaches the shore — floating on rafts, grasping at driftwood, grasping at nothing at all. But he always reaches the shore.  


21\. “Maybe I will live forever,” he thinks bitterly. He is lying face-down on the beach. When he laughs, the sand presses into his mouth. He misses the taste of the Earth.  


22\. “My name is Circe,” says the woman.  


23\. “My name is Calypso,” says the woman.  


24\. Penelope wants to undo these stitches, but the threads are all knotted together. She must go on.  


25\. Calypso keeps Odysseus in a cave. From there, he can see the sun rise every day. “Time is circular,” he decides. “One day it will lead me back.”  


26\. A year passes. Odysseus dreams of home.  


27\. Two years pass. Odysseus dreams of home.  


28\. Three years pass. Odysseus dreams of home.  


29\. Penelope wants to undo these stitches, but even love cannot pause the relentless tide of time.  


30\. A year passes. Odysseus dreams of home. He thinks of Penelope and wonders what she is doing now.  


31\. Penelope is weaving a shroud, and her hands have grown strong.  


32\. When Calypso, a smile playing on her lips, offers Odysseus immortality, he knows his answer. He does not hesitate. Calypso’s face falls.  


33\. Here is wily Odysseus, lost at sea.  


34\. Here is wily Odysseus, reaching the shore. He always reaches the shore.  


35\. The Phaeacians are kind to him. “Wanderer”, they call him. “Madman”, they whisper to each other.  


36\. Odysseus listens to the blind singer. He weeps and weeps. Although he does not not realise it, he is trying to pour the sea out of himself.  


37\. Penelope has been betrayed. The suitors take the shroud from her. “You think you can delay the inevitable?” they sneer. “I know I can,” she replies, smiling placidly.  


38\. They take the shroud from her, but she holds it in her mind, and in her heart.  


39\. A beggar walks into the hall — an old man, a poor man, age-worn. But she knows him. She would know him to the ends of the Earth and back.  


40\. He sees her and he staggers. Shaking, he turns his eyes away.  


41\. Odysseus leads the suitors into a trap. The hall is the belly of a wooden horse.  


42\. The suitors are dead and nobody left is alive. “You could not leave the war behind you, so you brought it back to me,” thinks Penelope as she gazes into Nobody's eyes.  


43\. Who is this stranger? He is a beggar man with many scars. He is Nobody. “I will move the bed into the other room for you,” she says.  


44\. Something small snaps inside Odysseus. And it hurts. “No,” he says. “That is our bed. It is an olive tree rooted to the ground. I carved it myself. I carved it for you.”  


45\. “Odysseus,” she says. It is such a joy to speak his name. “You have finally returned to me.”  


46\. That night, he tells her a story. It is almost a confession, but not quite.  


47\. But look, Odysseus is weeping. The tears fall, relentless. Now he knows the war will never leave him. Indeed, the sea will never leave him.  


48\. She puts her hand on her heart where she keeps her shroud — his shroud. Theirs.  


49\. “Now, my love,” she says. “I do not know all the things you have done. But I know enough. Let me undo them for you, one by one.”  


50\. Here is wily Odysseus. Here is wise Penelope. Together, they are lost at sea.


End file.
